Fragile - (Sting)
Blood
will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rains will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always always stay
Perhaps
this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
'Cause nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On
and on the rain will fall
Just like tears from a star, just like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
Just how fragile we are, just how fragile we are
If
blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rains will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always always stay
Perhaps
this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
'Cause nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
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I first heard on diary-l, from Dreama. Ginkgo has committed suicide. My day slowed down from there, pulling in this fact. Her "real name" was Eve, I knew this years ago, but always thought of her as Ginkgo, I'd known her as that name since August 97, when I read this entry. Dreaming Among the Jade Clouds, and newly married. I found her through Open Pages, that's where I used to find most of my journals
I was struck by the luminous quality of her design, it just sparkled. It was very cool, and I wrote and told her so. We chatted on and off since then, Christmas Cards were sent, including one for last year, which she loved, an original Jeff. The last thing I said in email to her, May this year, was in response to a slightly darker entry she posted (Not this one, but in a similar vein) , unlinked from the front page, just for her notify list people. She'd asked if she were a train wreck, and I replied that she wasn't, most definitely not. I still think
that, even after this. My heart goes out to Mark. My heart goes out to her cats. I know, that might be seen as an odd reaction, to feel sympathy for her cats. She loved those cats though, they look loved, there's an entry I wish I could find, about her sliding on the polished wooden floors with Mark and her cats. Cats do miss people, they do pine, and there's absolutely no way to explain to her 5 beasties that their world has been irrevocably changed. Not that there's any good explanation of that for Mark, when you think about it. I kep extrapolating today, me, married three years in January to Jeff, love of my life, and my five cats. And I just had to stop doing that. Cause, and I know this is unfair, I kep thinking, how could she leave him, how could she leave them? I called Jeff at work, later today, to discuss my days plans, errands, work. I also told him that an online journaller had killed herself. He said "Anyone I know?" I told him Ginkgo. He remembered her, her stylish graphics, her cool photography. I thought her graphics were so cool, when we started Metajournals in '98, I had her do the first graphics article. [There's an interview with her here at Diarist.net, as Metajournals.com isn't online anymore.] fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Dammit.
Graphics in the above entry are copyright Ginkgo
Updated 30 December, 2000 |
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